Authors: Jenna McCormick
Caught Up In You
Edgeplay: Part 2
Published by Captiva Heart
A Sanibel Moon Imprint
Copyright 2012 Jenna McCormick
Cover image purchased from romancenovelcovers.com
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All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.
Caught Up In You
Edgeplay: Part 2
A Matter of Trust
here are many reasons not to have sex with your boss. Out of all of them, I think I’ve got the best. The two times I did give in to Connor Edge— the billionaire playboy who happens to own the Rosemont property in upstate New York where I tend the grounds— he’s conveniently forgotten it’s happened. The first time was after he found me swimming in his pool, in my birthday suit. I didn’t know who he was then, so maybe that one can be excused.
It’s the second instance that’s hanging over me like a big dark cloud as I stride across the estate to the sound of buzzing cicadas. Last night, aforementioned billionaire playboy let himself inside my cottage—uninvited—and seduced me out of my anger and my pajamas. Maybe I allowed it because I’m lonely, or weak-willed. But I think I gave in because he’s so tempting and he coaxed me with the sweetest, kinkiest and most alluring words I’ve ever heard. Then, he held me as I drifted to sleep, feeling safe and cherished.
And when I woke up with sun streaming through my blinds, Connor had vanished.
“Morning, Baily!” Greg the UPS driver waves at me from the closed gate.
Plastering a welcoming smile on my face, I disengage the electronic locks and pull one side of the wrought iron gate back. “It certainly is. You’re here early.” Greg usually didn’t deliver out to Rosemont until late afternoon.
“This came in overnight for Mr. Edge. Is he here?”
“No, I saw him leave about twenty minutes ago.” The son of a bitch didn’t even wave at me as he’d sped away in his black convertible with the top down. Even if he hadn’t sent a good portion of the night making me come unglued at the seams, he could at least acknowledge his staff. Tool.
Greg studies me for a beat. “How’s your granddad doing?” Since his mother is in the same nursing home, Greg is one of the few people who knows where Thomas Sinclair is and why I’ve taken over his job.
“Not so hot. He had a fall yesterday and spent the night in the hospital.”
Greg curses low under his breath. “Sorry to hear it. Keep me updated on him, okay?”
He hands the package to me. “I’m off at six. Do you want to catch a drink at Lady Liberty?”
Lady Liberty is a dive bar in town where all the working stiffs congregate to knock back cheap booze and commiserate. I hardly ever drink, so I can count the number of times I’ve been to the bar on one hand. “Thanks, but I’m probably gonna spend the evening with Pops.”
Greg fishes around in his pocket and comes up with a tattered business card. “Gimme a call if you change your mind. Or, you know, just show up.”
He’s blushing a little, embarrassment staining his cheeks. Suddenly his invitation didn’t sound quite so casual.
I open my mouth to respond, though I’m not sure what to say, but a loud honk blares out. We both jump. Peeking around Greg’s brown uniform, I spy Connor sitting in his convertible. My heart rate kicks up as he lowers his sunglass down his nose until he stares at us over the top. “Your truck is blocking my driveway.”
His tone is cool and borderline rude. It shouldn’t cause my blood to heat to near boiling.
“Sorry Sir, we were just talking.”
“Are you almost finished?” Connor’s icy blue eyes fix on me.
How dare he look at me that way after the liberties he took with my body last night! I may not be his social equal, but I’m not about to let him treat me like I’m not worthy to lick his boots. No more basking in his illustrious presence for Baily Sinclair. So what if he’s smokin’ hot and has more money than God? He’s a dick and has mad issues. No thanks.
“See you later, Greg.” Whirling on my heel, I stride away from the gate and the man I want to smack across his handsome face.
I’m barely a quarter mile away when the purr of a well-tuned engine is dogging my steps.
“Would you like a ride?”
“No, thank you.”
He doesn’t drive off however. “Do you have something for me, Ms. Sinclair?”
I almost flip him the bird, it’s hard not to. Yes, he let me keep the job, even after he caught me skinny dipping in his pool. As his employee, I should treat him with a degree of respect. All of that, however, isn’t enough to soothe the battered pride of my inner woman scorned. I’d given him pieces of myself I’ve never even shown to other men. I surrendered to him completely.
And he doesn’t remember.
“The delivery is for me, right?” he asks, drawing my focus back to the cardboard box in my hands.
Without looking, I chuck the package into the passenger’s seat and take off across the lawn.
The slam of a car door spurs me into a flat-out sprint. I can’t deal with his tempestuous nature right now. I’m too raw and need to find a corner to hide in and lick my wounds.
The sound of him calling my name drives me faster, my heart lodges in my throat. Why won’t he just leave me alone?
I’m not fast enough. He tackles me right inside the tree line at the secluded north end of the property. The hit knocks the wind from my lungs and I’m momentarily stunned. Connor rolls so he takes the impact of our landing on his back to keep from crushing me.
A few minutes pass, his rough and ragged breaths against my neck remind me of last night when his lack of oxygen came from a different sort of exertion. I fight anew. “Let go of me, leave me alone!”
“Baily, what the hell is the matter? Why did you run like that?”
“To get away from you. Why did you chase me?” I shoot back.
“I don’t know. I just…had to.” His voice is rougher, sounding almost raw.
Despite the rising temperature, I shiver. “I mean it Connor, let go.”
His arms tighten around me. “Only if you promise not to run.”
Fine, I could walk until I got to my cottage and then slam the door in his face. “Agreed.”
The loosening of his arms is reluctantly slow, but he does release my. I scramble to my feet, unable to avoid a quick glance at him. Gone is the unruffled billionaire who’d been so rude to my friend, the common laborer. His shirt is untucked, his hair a wild with a few pine needles sticking out of it. He is huge and rumpled and utterly delicious. Intensity replaces the coldness in his blue eyes, along with a sharp focus on my face. This maddening man is my lover and my knees go weak.
Stay strong for once.
Snarkarella, my inner critic, scolds.
Don’t be his plaything.
“Why did I wake up in your bed?” Connor asks quietly.
My infamous Irish temper flares. Again with the amnesia act? Is he some reincarnated Russian princess? “We spent the whole night playing Parcheesi of course. Why do you
Leveling his gaze on me he scolds, “Sarcasm isn’t helping, Baily.”
I shiver under that quelling look, but am too stubborn to back down. And if I‘m honest, too hurt. Am I really so forgettable that he can’t recall the events of twelve hours ago?
Swallowing, I answer. “We had sex. Sex sex this time.”
“Sex sex.” He repeats with a slow perusal down my body.
I can’t help it, I blush. “Yeah.”
“Consensual?” Again, a flash of fear, as though he truly believes himself capable of force.
I step closer, lay a hand on his arm. “Yes, Connor, it was mutual.”